Raising the Bar
by somanyfeelings
Summary: "There's so much for her to be doing, so many labs for her to write up and so many scientific journals to read, and she's stuck in a bar reading the back of a beer bottle and sneaking glances at the girl at the counter."


Jemma hates bars. They're loud, and they're smelly, and there's nothing for her to do but wonder why she's there and what she's doing.

She nurses the same bottle of beer she's had all night, and the liquid still barely reaches the start of the label. There's so much for her to be doing, so many labs for her to write up and so many scientific journals to read, and she's stuck in a bar reading the back of a beer bottle and sneaking glances at the girl at the counter.

It's for the girl's own good, Jemma tells herself. She's seemingly alone at the counter, and she's wonderfully pretty. It's logical, really, that such a great number of men continue to approach her, and it's logical for Jemma, therefore, to look out for her.

The girl has apparently turned away man after man, yet the one who leans next to her now doesn't seem to want to leave. He's grinning creepily and gesturing around, and the girl glances from side to side every so often as if looking for an escape route. Yet the man doesn't take the hint. Typical, Jemma scoffs.

He says something, and the girl shakes her head; he glares. His own glass is essentially empty, and he looks more than a little drunk. Jemma's brow furrows, and before she can second guess herself she walks up to the bar.

"Hello!" she announces cheerily. "What's your name? I'm Jemma, and this is my girlfriend, uh-"

"Skye," the girl interjects. "I'm Skye. Like I was saying, good to get to know you."

Jemma's never been one for lying, so she's more than a little surprised when the man takes the hint and walks away, leaving her and the mysterious girl. Skye.

"I-" Jemma starts. "Hi. You looked like you needed some help. I'm sorry."

Skye waves her off, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I totally did. Thanks. Why're you apologizing?"

"Because... I called you my girlfriend." It's meant to be a statement, but Jemma's cheeks flush and the words come out more questioning than anything.

Skye knocks her beer bottle against Jemma's and laughs. "That's a compliment, really."

"Oh. I, uh... Well. Thank you." Jemma feels rather drunk all of a sudden, and she wishes she could blame it on the alcohol.

Slowly and a bit uncertainly, she takes a seat next to Skye. The stools are close together, and their hands nearly touch when she sets down her drink. It's hard not to stare, to turn and admire the profile of the girl beside her, but she manages. For a moment.

When she gives in and turns to look, Skye is looking back at her.

"Jemma, yeah?"

"Yes. Skye?"

"Yep. It's so hippie, right? Typical orphanage name. You'd think that a Catholic orphanage would be all over, like, Mary or Anne or whatever, but no. Skye."

Jemma's not sure what to say, and Skye's eyebrows rise in understanding.

"Sorry. You probably didn't want to hear all of that."

"No," Jemma objects. "No, I was simply.. I was surprised. I'd like to get to know you."

She's rewarded with a small, more bashful grin. "Okay. Cheers, then. To hippie names and fake girlfriends."

They clink and each take a sip, and Skye sets her bottle back down with a hum. It's about half empty, Jemma notes, while her own is still largely full. She stares at the bottles as she muses and completely misses the bartender nodding vaguely toward them.

"We'll take two more," Skye begins, and Jemma looks up.

"Huh?"

"More beer. I got another round."

"Oh."

There's a beat of silence before Skye speaks. "So why'd you pick girlfriend anyway? You could've pulled the protective bestie card, and that would've scared Mr. Creepy off just as well."

"I- I don't know," Jemma shrugs awkwardly, taking a sip of her drink to busy her hands. She notices Skye's smirk out of the corner of her eye but still jumps when the girl's hand brushes across her wrist.

"Damn, and here I was hoping it was because you meant it."

Jemma nearly drops the bottle, but Skye reaches out to steady it. "You.. Really?"

"Yeah really. Duh. You're unreal, how could I not be serious?"

Jemma doesn't have an answer, and Skye cocks her head to the side. "Are you.. cool with that?"

She manages to nod. "Coo. Yes, I'm cool."

Skye grins and leans forward, asking, "Good. So is this okay?"

"Completely okay."

The kiss is oddly gentle, and Skye's lips are soft against her own. Jemma tilts her head and rests one elbow on the counter beside her, letting her eyes slide shut. Her senses are flooded with contradictions, for the bar is so loud yet the pounding of her heart overpowers all of it and she feels so flustered but she doesn't want it to end.

After what feels like an hour, Skye breaks away. "You're a good fake girlfriend."

And maybe it's the alcohol or maybe the adrenaline, but Jemma finds herself shaking her head. "I'm a horrible fake girlfriend. I'm a good actual girlfriend."

Skye laughs, leaning over to bump their shoulders together. Jemma's sweater leaves behind flecks of periwinkle cotton.

"You think so, huh?" Skye teases. "Let's try it out, then." She raises one hand in an innocent shrug, and Jemma finds herself giggling too.

"Yes. Let's."

She's fully aware of the people watching them, and she doesn't care one bit when she leans back in to kiss Skye again. Skye tastes like beer and grins against her lips, and Jemma immediately decides she's glad she put aside her work for the night.

"Girlfriend?" Skye murmurs, and the word sounds almost shy. It's hard to tell in the dim light, but she could've sworn Skye's cheeks are painted a light pink. It's a good look on her, truly.

"Girlfriend."

Bar kisses aren't the most romantic of kisses in Jemma's mind, but she quickly reevaluates that opinion.

And she reevaluates several others too: bars aren't too bad after all.

* * *

_Roses are red, violets are blue, and if you review then I'll love you! :)_


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